


My Baby Just Cares For Me

by DryCereal



Series: Watashi No Uso [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: "Why I Went To Hospital", Also Featuring: TOAST!, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Stubborn Phil, angst-ish, worried Dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 07:05:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17720456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DryCereal/pseuds/DryCereal
Summary: Why Phil actually went to hospital. (Spoilers: Dan made him..)





	My Baby Just Cares For Me

“I know it’s not fucking funny Phil, does it look like I’m laughing?” He’s not laughing. Not even smiling. Instead, Dan looks about as frustrated as he’s ever seen him. Ever.  
  
He hasn’t smiled once, not since he came stumbling into the en-suite clutching his pillow, scratching his head and barely awake to find Phil lying on the floor, dizzy and just about clinging to consciousness after another aborted attempt to get up. After asking (none too politely) just what exactly Phil was doing on said floor at just-gone 5am, Dan had snapped to fully awake upon hearing Phil’s explanation, and, doing his best to sound as calm and relaxed as he liked to imagine his usual self, but frowning worriedly the entire time, he’d set about trying to deal with… what was happening.  
  
He’d tried to help Phil firstly to sit up, but then after ending up having to catch him and settle him back leaning against the bath, quickly hooked one arm under Phil’s knees, the other around his back and lifted him, holding him against his chest securely enough that Phil didn’t even try and struggle, even though he’d had no warning of Dan’s intentions, lest he end up on the floor even more bruised than he already expected to be.  
  
Dan had carried him back into their bedroom, and lowered him down gently on the bed, before sitting down next to him on the edge of the mattress. Gently, he’d pushed Phil’s hair back away from his face, resting his palm against his forehead briefly, before pulling it away as the frown on his face deepened.  
  
“You feel really warm” he’d murmured, biting his lip as he reached for the phone - Phil’s - closest to them, unlocking it. Phil hadn’t been surprised to see him on a familiar-looking blue and white webpage, tapping rapidly, then reading and scrolling a page of text before looking back to Phil.  
  
“Says here you need to get checked out.” he’d told him, biting his lip once more. “I don’t think we need to phone 999, since you’re awake now, but I think we should-”  
  
“I’m not warm, m’cold.” Phil had complained, having waited for Dan to be focussed on him to argue the point. “An’ I don’t wanna go t’hospital. Don’t feel well.”  
  
“I know you don’t, love, that’s why we need to get you checked out.” Dan had replied patiently, reaching up to cup Phil’s face gently with one hand. Instead of leaning into the affectionate touch, though, Phil had pushed Dan’s hand away irritably.  
  
“No. Dan. You look after me. No hospital. Don’t want a fuss.”  
  
“It’s not making a bloody fuss, you spoon, you passed out. You need to go and get checked over- ” Dan had snapped, before seeming to rein himself in; he’d continued much more calmly, and reasonably after pausing - “Look, I know you hate being ill and seeing doctors, but I really think-“  
  
“I just want to stay here. I’ll be alright if I have something to eat and drink - _I want_ _toast_.” Phil had decided, before whining pitifully “Can you get me some toast? Please?” at his incredulous boyfriend.  
  
“I don’t think -” is as far as Dan got before being interrupted by more of Phil’s pleading. “OK, OK, alright” he’d quickly agreed. With a single stipulation. “I’m not leaving you alone, so if you can get up to the lounge, then I’ll get you some- _woah_! Phil, slow down, you’ll- jesus _fuck_ -! okay, just… Wait a second.” Phil, who’d sprung up far too quickly for someone who’d only made it up off the floor because he’d been lifted bodily, immediately staggered and would have ended up lying in a heap once more if not for Dan catching him and sitting him back down on the bed. “OK, we’ll stay here for a bit, but I really think-”  
  
“ **Toast**.” Phil had demanded, a determined look on his face.  
  
Dan had sighed in defeat, and stood up, taking Phil’s hand in his and steadying him with a hand on his waist as he pulled him to his feet. From there, Phil had been enveloped into a hug, Dan’s arms wrapping around him on the tight side of securely, and they’d stayed there, pressed close together until Dan felt Phil physically steady himself, as he did the same, emotionally.  
  
“OK?” he’d murmured, and smiled in relief when Phil had nodded. “Come on then. Slowly.” With that, he’d pulled away slightly, one hand grasping Phil’s, then using it to draw Phil’s arm up and over his shoulders, the other wrapping around his waist. Phil had made a noise of protest, but had quietened after a look from Dan.  
  
After a scary wobble about halfway up the staircase, they eventually make it to the lounge and Dan sighs in relief when they both sit down on the sofa, still supporting most of Phil’s weight as he leans on him and lays his head on his shoulder.  
  
“You ok?” he’d murmured, nosing against Phil’s hair gently, one arm still wrapped around his waist, trapped, more like, if he’d wanted to move right then. His jangled nerves soothed somewhat by the close proximity, but they’d soon spiked again when he’d pulled away slightly when he received no answer, looked Phil in the face and saw how pale he looked - even for him.  
  
“Phil?” he’d tried, shaking him slightly when he still didn’t respond, and mirroring Phil’s frown, worried that something might be seriously wrong with him, and- “I think… look. I really think we should go to- ” Phil had roused then, enough to cut him off with a firm answer.  
  
“No hospital. I’m staying here.” He hadn’t seemed able to focus on Dan properly, up until that moment, but suddenly he pulled that exasperatingly stubborn expression, the one that invariably means he’s determined not to back down, even when he knows he’s wrong, or being unreasonable… Trouble is, right now Dan can’t really tell if he’s well enough to realise he’s being ridiculous.  
  
“You said I could have toast.” Dan gapes silently for a moment before snapping his mouth shut and stalking over to the kitchen. The toaster doesn’t deserve the rough treatment it gets as he slams down the arm on the side, but it feels somewhat justified when it fails to stay down the first two times he pushes the lever.  
  
He mashes way too much spread onto the toast when it pops up, silently refusing Phil his preferred butter, because he’s damned if he’s going to do anything to make him worse than he currently is, and irritably cuts the mangled toast in half diagonally when he’s finished.

He hadn't been mad at _Phil_ at that point.  
  
Well, not _really_ .  
  
He'd just been worried, mainly, maybe a _little_ frustrated at Phil's stubborn refusal to get checked out, and a little antsy because the adrenaline from being woken suddenly by Phil's yelling hadn't completely worked its way out of his system yet.

But he wasn’t mad. Not then.

Now though…  
  
Now Phil’s (thankfully) perked up a little, having eaten his toast, taken the meds he’d failed in his attempt to fetch earlier, and then curled up on the sofa, his head resting in Dan’s lap, sighing contentedly as Dan’s fingers traced paths through his hair, his other hand holding the phone he was using to not-so-subtly to look up information about Phil’s symptoms online.  
  
Now, after breaking the silence to once more suggest they leave their apartment to go sit in a cold, brightly lit, noisy A&E department in order for Phil to be poked, prodded, pricked and checked over - at which suggestion Phil had stiffened, sat up, wincing slightly, before refusing point blank to go anywhere, as he was starting to feel better anyway - Dan, at that point, instead of trying to persuade him to agree to see what, if anything might have caused Phil to pass out that morning, had gone straight for the nuclear option, suggesting that he’d instead phone Phil’s parents to see if anything similar had happened before when Phil was younger.  
  
Now, he’s brandishing his phone like some sort of weapon, glaring at Phil, still sat on the sofa, glaring back at him, as if Dan’s doing something unforgivable, instead of trying to act in his best interests.

“Dan, don’t you _da-_ “

“I mean it Phil. Either we go get you checked out and make sure you’re alright, or I’m phoning your mother and you can tell her why you’re being-“

“That’s not fair Dan, she’ll worry and-“

 **“** **_I’M_ ** **FUCKING WORRIED PHIL!”**

He knows immediately he shouldn’t have yelled. Or cursed. He knows well enough that Phil’s worried, he’s scared by what’s happened this morning, and shouting at each other won’t help, especially when he’s been and got Phil his headache pills from the bathroom as requested. Phil never asks him to get them unless he really needs him to get them, and if that’s the case then the last thing he needs is an argument.  
  
He knows that whereas he deals with fear by thinking, learning as much as he can about whatever it is that’s worrying him, either to come up with a plan (whether or not he ends up following it) or to logic his way out of it, Phil - well, Phil blocks it out. Ignores it until it goes away.

He’s scared too though. And he knows his fears don’t just go away until he confronts them and beats them back.

Luckily, for whatever reason Dan will probably feel guilty over later, Phil sighs defeatedly, dropping his face down into his hands, and murmurs “Fine. I’ll- We- Will you come with me?”  
  
Less than two seconds later, Dan’s down on the sofa with him, pulling him into his arms and promising him that of course he will, that he’ll always be there for Phil, and how it’ll be fine, and countless other reassurances he needs every bit just as much as his boyfriend right now.  
  
Because Phil, infuriatingly stubborn as he can be sometimes, cares just as much about Dan as Dan does about Phil. That’s all that matters, really.  
  
That, and that Phil, he’s almost certain, (even as he’s packing them both a bag to take to the hospital with them, Phil’s with a change of clothes and toiletries, just in case, and his with things to occupy them, and a tangle of chargers) is just fine.  
  
They both are.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know this doesn't match up entirely with Phil's version of events in the video. I'm choosing to believe he's... using artistic license, so I can too! (C'mon though. Anybody _really_ think Dan would have let him wait that long before going to get checked out? _Really?!_
> 
> Fun story - I had all this written for my Charity auction fic, when I went and checked the emails where I was discussing the prompt with the winner, aaaaaand... I'm a dumbass. A complete dumbass, so... Pt 2 of this series will be that ACTUAL charity auction work fic/prompt!! Sorry @ElvenLady! (And 'moods - yours is coming too!!)
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/DryCerealThief) or [Tumblr](https://drycerealthief.tumblr.com) to laugh at me being a dippy madam. 'Cos I am.


End file.
